


Raw Power (ficlet)

by brownskinsugarplum76



Category: Iggy Pop (Musician), Rock Music RPF, The Stooges (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Concerts, Exhibitionism, Ficlet, Gen, Groping, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Muscles, Punk, Punk Rock, Rock Stars, Rock and Roll, Singing, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brownskinsugarplum76/pseuds/brownskinsugarplum76
Summary: No smut, just a little something about a night in the onstage life of The Ig.
Relationships: Iggy and the audience
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Raw Power (ficlet)

The crowd was into the show, but he was still restless...you could see it in his eyes, the wild blue yonder of a man with nothing to lose and a mind bursting with ideas. This young man, shaman, a madman, was hell-bent on infamy. His taut, shirtless body practically vibrated with an acute need to take the fans higher, or deeper into the garage-y grooves, or past the edge of sanity. It really didn't matter to him, what they felt, as long as they felt something. Love, lust, hate… Something strong, something that he could unleash in them with glee, something that leapt from body to sweaty body in the cramped venue like a virus of heightened sensation.  
He wanted to get under their skin. He wanted them to get at his skin and the array of muscles just beneath the surface, his hair, his ass, clad only in a skimpy pair of briefs that announced he had been to Soho. He took a leap and gave himself to them. He always gave everything he had, always more than any other artist would dare to dream of giving.  
Not knowing what else to do when the singer became a human missile launched in their direction, the people complied. They held him aloft and passed him around a bit with a mixture of cradling and groping, before enabling him to make his way back to the stage, drunk off of their incredulous worship and the cocktail of illicit goodies trying to make nice in his system.  
His appreciation went out to them in the form of a savage, bloodcurdling scream. They roared back. Their energy had mingled with his, and everyone present was attuned to the primal vibes that ricocheted off their bodies and the walls, then back to him and his band.  
He had incited an orgy of violent emotion, which was exactly what he had set out to do. He was satisfied. It was better than quenching a jones or dipping in the well of a willing groupie or two. He had seized a slice of immortality with a hell of a show that no one could deny or forget.


End file.
